by Kacey Shea
“Can I talk to you?” he mumbles to the ground.
“Sure, but make it quick because I have someplace to be at one. I hope you have good news for me.” That catches his attention and for the first time since he arrived his gaze lifts to meet mine.
His frown is full of worry, and I’m already disappointed before the next words leave his mouth. “I’m sorry, Coach.”
I shake my head, not in the mood for excuses. “Don’t be sorry. Show up.”
“I won’t be. Not anymore. You’ve done so much for me and I don’t take a single thing for granted, it’s just that I can’t do this anymore. I came to say good-bye.”
It takes me a moment to process his words. “You’re serious?”
Xavier’s gaze drops again and so does my heart, along with all my hopes for this gym—for showing everyone I’m not the fuckup they once thought. For this kid and the opportunities a career in the UFC would afford him.
“What the hell are you thinking?” My anger flares along with the disappointment. What a fucking waste. A waste of talent. A waste of time. A waste of hope. I stand and walk around my desk so we’re face to face and he can’t hide behind some lame excuse.
He lifts his head and shakes his head. “Look. I’m trying to do the right thing. I could’ve left you hanging, but I’m not a coward. I can’t fight anymore. Ain’t no one gonna lose sleep over that but me.”
“Bullshit, Xavier. That’s fucking bullshit. You think coming here to bail in person makes you a man?” I shove my finger into his chest but that only causes his gaze to harden.
A scoff leaves his lips and he shakes his head. “It’s not your problem.”
Oh, but it is. Unfair as it is, my dreams of making this gym what I want it to be, what it has the potential to be, all ride on the shoulders of this kid. Of me being able to produce a fierce fighter. One who can soar to the top better than I ever could.
“Give me a good reason. You owe me that. A fucking explanation why I wasted hundreds of hours training some nobody from the ghetto. Huh?” I’m poking because he’s void of his usual fire and drive. I want to know what has this fighter acting like the quitter I know he’s not.
“Sorry, Coach.” He shakes his head as if that’s enough. He won’t even meet my eyes.
“That’s really all you’re gonna give me, huh? God damn it!” I resist the urge to take a fist to the wall behind him and smash the framed photo that only further mocks my failures. It’s one that captures the weigh-ins for my very first UFC fight. Xavier won’t meet my gaze, even as I get in his face. This isn’t the same hungry kid who walked into my gym not even a year ago. The one willing to do whatever it took, whatever I said, because that’s how bad he wanted to train. That kid wouldn’t have quit. Nothing could keep him from his dreams. “What changed, Xavier? This have something to do with your mom?”
He’s stone cold, his expression impassive as he trains his gaze at the floor. It’s because of that he doesn’t see me grab for his shoulder. The moment he feels my touch he shoves at my chest and jumps back a step.
“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” I bark.
Xavier’s glare digs into mine. Angry. Present. That’s the fighter I trained. “You aren’t my fucking father. I don’t owe you shit. Don’t put your hands on me again.”
“You’re right. I’m not that worthless piece of crap who walked out on you and your mom. I actually give a damn.”
“This is BS. I’m out.” He moves to turn but my next words catch his step.
“Don’t you walk out that door unless you plan to never come back through it again. Even with the shit you’ve pulled this past week, that’d be a damn shame. You’re fucking talented, Xavier. Too bad you’re willing to throw it all away. How does this help your mom? You going to run drugs like your brother now?” I spit out the last words, so damn disappointed. In him. In me. In life.
Xavier doesn’t turn around and I won’t beg him to stay. I turn back to my desk with the resolve to find another solution to my own problems. I was a fool to place so much weight on one young man.
“Coach?” Xavier’s voice cuts through the empty room, splicing the thick air with all the pain that drips from that one word. I can’t help but lift my gaze to meet his sad eyes. “It’s my mom. We need more money. They’ve stopped her treatment until we can come up with more. Until I can . . . Without it? . . . She’s as good as six feet under.”
“Xavier, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t, okay? I know you’re sorry. Everyone’s fucking sorry. But that doesn’t help her get better, you know? And chasing some pipe dream to become the next UFC champ doesn’t either. It’s time for me to grow the fuck up. If running with the guys from my block gets her the treatment she needs, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“That what she wants?” Xavier’s mother has been in here countless times. Her pride for her youngest son and the fact he’s chosen a different path than his father and older brother has always been clear to me.
“She doesn’t get a say anymore. We don’t have time.” He blows out a breath.
“So, you’ll give it all up?”
A scowl forms on his face. “I’d do anything for her. You know that.”
“And sitting in a jail cell, what does that do? Can’t pay for treatments or take care of her from there.”
He steps forward, anger and frustration laced into each rigid movement. “What else am I supposed to do, Coach? Tell me. Honest to God, tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do to make this right. To get her better?”
“It’s not a fairytale. There’s no magical spell. It’s blood and sweat. Hard work and time. Fuck, you’ve done all the work. You’ve earned your place in the ring. I know there’s an easier way. But it’s not the right way. It’s not what she wants, and not what you want, either. Give me two weeks. Wait until after the fight. After that, quit if you want. I don’t think you should, but if you have to walk out, don’t do it before the main event. Not after you’ve earned your front row ticket.”
He’s considering my proposal. He wouldn’t still be standing here if he weren’t. I only hope he chooses to stay. To fight.
I give him the time he needs, the seconds passing more painfully than the last thirty seconds of a match. There’s no cheering crowd. No adrenaline surge or cuts and scars. Just a young man at a crossroads of two very different lives.
“Two weeks,” he finally says.
“So, that’s a yes?”
“Yes, Coach. I’m sorry I let you down.”
“Good. No more apologies. We’re moving forward.” Turning my back to him, I squat down and input the code to the safe. Drawing out the grand I have left from my uncle, I know this is the right thing to do. I’ll get out of my apartment tonight and they should return my deposit to cover this. I lock up the safe and turn around, shoving the envelope into Xavier’s hands. “We’re moving forward. Starting now. This should get your mom’s treatments back on track. Now, go get changed and meet me on the floor. We’ve got a week’s worth of practice to make up.”
“Now?” He blinks, still gaping at the envelope in his hands.
“Yes. Now.”
He nods and when he lifts his gaze I know I’ve done the right thing. Consequences be damned. “But don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“That can wait. This takes priority. I believe in you, Xavier. You have what it takes, and you deserve it more than anyone I know. I’m going to do everything in my power to get you ready for that fight. Now, let’s get to it.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
With that he bounds from my office, lightness in his step, determination in his eyes. My own outlook is so much brighter with his decision to fight. I swipe my cell off the table and type out a quick text, hoping Mia understands. I hate canceling our plans, but this is where I need to be.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mia
Matt: Something came up. Raincheck? TTY.
That’s the text Matt sent me over an hour ago. Th
e one that propelled me to invite my friends for an impromptu late afternoon brunch and endless mimosas. It’s also the stupid message I can’t stop thinking about. He owes me nothing. We’re not even dating. Not really. But it still came as a surprise that he’d cancel our date last minute. Especially after our naked party last weekend and mostly naked training session this week.
“Mia? Earth to Mia!” Jared laughs.
“I think we broke her. I always knew this day would come.” Rae pats Jared’s shoulder.
“Sorry.” I shake my head and lay my cell phone back on the table. I don’t know why it bothers me that Matt canceled our plans today. We’re just having fun. This is only some stupid bet. Because you were actually looking forward to spending time with him. I shake that thought right out of my head.
“Seriously, Mia. What the hell? You gonna let us in on what’s running through that pretty little head of yours?” Jared’s words flip my attention back to the present.
“Is it normal for a guy to cancel a date last minute?” I blurt my question because these two have a vast knowledge to reference on the protocol of typical male behavior.
“Uh, I guess so? It’s not really the best sign. Why?” Rae tilts her head and takes another sip from her drink.
I nod because I’m being silly letting Matt’s text mess with me. He’s a busy man. I’ve got my own career. It’s difficult enough to find time to train together, so I’m sure something simply came up. I can’t fault him when I’ve done the exact same. But still. I’m curious what Rae and Jared think. “What about after getting naked together?”
She flips her hair over one shoulder and leans back into her chair with a wicked grin. “Like you did the dirty and now he won’t call? That’s a totally bad sign. Unless the sex was bad!” Rae giggles, holds up her hand, and Jared reaches over to smack her palm in a high five.
“Oh.” I guess I knew all of that but it still stings. Why the hell does it sting? Maybe it’s heartburn. Those huevos rancheros were a touch on the spicy side. I push my plate to the center of the table.
“Wait . . .” Rae leans forward and folds her hands on the edge of the table. “We’re not discussing a real life dilemma, are we? Because you don’t usually have those.”
I shrug and drink from my water glass to clear my throat. “Yeah, well, Matt was supposed to meet me for lunch today but he canceled.”
“We’re your pity replacements?” Jared’s mouth falls open and he scoffs. “Mia!”
“Oh, that’s totally shady.” Rae rolls her eyes and ignores Jared’s tantrum. “Last minute cancel. After last weekend. What a dick move.”
“I’m still not over we weren’t her first choice for brunch. These mimosas taste like bitter broken friendship.”
“Jared, shut up.” Rae rolls her eyes and points at me from across the table. “Mia, you need to watch out for that man.”
“I’m not sure I need to watch out. That seems a little severe. Here. You look. What does this even mean?” I bring up my text thread with Matt and shove it in Rae’s waiting hand. I’ve never tried to analyze a text message before. I’ve never really cared. That alone concerns me more than whatever Matt ditched our lunch for.
She reads the words and winces but Jared swipes it from her. He starts to scroll like a madman but I’m too distraught to care. Besides, he’s so damn nosy it’s easier to let him have at it. I have nothing to hide.
Rae leans over the table and refills both our glasses. “Don’t you see? You hooked up last weekend. And it was good. Then you had that unbelievably sexy game of cat and mouse in his gym. But now you’re not dishing out the goods, so he suddenly has other plans. He’s putting a mind fuck on you, Mia.”
I glance at Jared, who seems to agree with his sister’s analysis by the frequent nodding of his head. He glances up from my phone and hands it back. “You should also up your sexting game if you want to hook that meathead. There’s nothing about your messages that would turn me on.”
“I don’t want to hook anyone.” I must be slow because I don’t really understand how that has anything to do with Matt’s change of plans. “And I’m not trying to turn Matt on.”
“Be careful, Mia. This is a setup.” Rae raises her brows, and her stare is so serious I don’t dare laugh.
But setup? Really? It’s not as if Matt’s planning a heist. “I’m sorry. How, exactly?”
They both gawk, jaws dropped until I bug my eyes.
“He wants the goods. The best way to get into the locked drawer is to pretend he doesn’t care about the key.” Jared says.
Rae nods. “Or find another treasure chest.”
Okay, this is ridiculous. I really do laugh now, shaking my head. “So, he canceled our lunch date so I’ll want him in my drawers because I’ll think he’s in someone else’s?”
“Pretty much.” Rae snaps the words and takes a long sip from her glass.
“This is exactly why I don’t date.” I laugh again.
“I thought you weren’t dating.” Jared lifts a brow and his lips curve up with a slight smile that says “Gotcha!” As my best friend of almost twenty years, nothing gets by him.
“We’re not.” I defend even though we kind of are. But it’s all on that stupid bet. Nothing more.
“And you’re not friends with benefits either?” Rae scrunches her lips and shakes her head, “Wait. I’m confused.”
I throw up my hands. “Why does everything need a label? I’m not interested in dating or a fuck buddy. He knows this. He’s still hanging around. I can’t tell if that makes him crazy or persistent.”
“If he’s still around, I say go with it.” Jared pats my hand.
“But if he’s trying to mind fuck me . . .”
Rae reaches for my other hand. “Don’t give up on him, Mia. I’m just saying tread carefully.”
Jared winks. “Like a baby tiger.”
“A cub.” Rae grins.
Jared laughs. “They’re so cute how they fall on their faces.”
“That’s me, all right.” I snag my hands back from these crazies.
“And we love you.” Jared blows me a kiss.
Our waiter comes by and we settle up the check. I’m thankful this conversation is over, though it leaves me more confused than before. I hate games. Is that what Matt’s doing or am I seeing something that’s not even there?
“What’s on the rest of today’s agenda now that Mia’s schedule opened up for us?” Rae snuggles into her scarf as we step outside the restaurant.
“I don’t care what you bitches do. I’ve got myself a hot date with a hot thing. I have to go prep.” Jared claps his hands together.
“Mmm . . . Tell us more,” Rae says.
I bump my shoulder against his. “This your lawyer?”
“Paralegal, and yes. There’s a big difference between those two, Kitten.” Jared practically scolds.
“Oh, my God!” I groan into my hands so I won’t roll my eyes.
“Day drinking at your place.” Rae wraps her arm around my shoulder and sings out into the city, earning us a few funny looks.
Jared shakes his head. “You two can drink but don’t get her in trouble, Rae-Rae. She can’t handle your pace.”
My brows pull up with his accusation. “What? You calling me old? I can hang with your little sister.”
He frowns. “No, I’m calling Rae a sloppy drunk. She has been known to encourage unwise decisions when alcohol and life choices intersect.”
“You don’t have to worry about us, big bro. You just go have a good time with your man.” Rae slaps his shoulder and proceeds toward the bus stop.
“Behave!” Jared shouts.
“Yes, Dad!” Rae yells back.
He flips her the bird and then steps in for a hug. “I’m serious, Kitten. Don’t have too much fun without me.”
“We won’t.” I laugh and wave good-bye before jogging to meet Rae. She’s a good twenty feet ahead and when I finally catch up, I’m out of breath. “Slow down, Speed Racer.”
“Sorry.” She links her arm in mine. “I’m cold. This jacket is more for show than purpose. Where to next, your place?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a bottle of wine waiting for us.”
“Ohh, threeways are my fave,” she announces in full voice as we pass a couple of hot guys. She might even wink at them.
“God, you’re such a tease.” I laugh because their expressions are priceless.
“I know.” She beams and kisses my cheek. If there’s one thing guaranteed about spending the rest of the day with Rae, it’s that I will be thoroughly entertained and most likely sloshed by the end of it. Really, that sounds like an absolutely perfect day.
“Teasing aside, you really like this guy?” Rae says as I pop the cork on our second bottle of wine. The sun disappeared from the skyline hours ago, but we’ve had no trouble filling our afternoon inside my apartment. I love hearing Rae’s stories from working in the fashion world. It’s like an uncut episode of reality television narrated by a comedian.
“What guy?”
“Thor. Who the fuck else you got on the side?” She holds up her glass.
“Matt? Yeah, I like him.” I fill her glass and mine, then plop back down on my sofa. When I catch her stupid dreamy eyes I quickly amend my statement. “But before you get all weird, it’s not like I want him to be my boyfriend or anything. I just like him. He’s funny, and sweet, and so, so great at fucking.”
“Tell me everything.” She nods with wide eyes.
“I’m not telling you!” I shake my head and take a drink.
That doesn’t deter her whining. “Come on, Mia. I need to live vicariously through you.”
“Says the single twenty-eight-year-old who hung out with stars from The Wandering Dead.” I pout, but remembering that horrible day doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few weeks ago. I guess what they say is true: time does heal all wounds.
“Mia, I’m truly sorry about that. You should have been there.” Rae’s smile is replaced with a frown.
“Damn right, I should have,” I say because I have to give her a hard time. It was her stupid friend Violet who ruined everything.